Whispers in the Dark
by xGeekachu
Summary: Amber has survived, leaving a young Mewtwo alone with nothing but her memory to sustain him. Meanwhile Amber is now sixteen, confined to a solitary life with big dreams on New Island. However, her life is about to change once her old friend awakens...
1. Prologue

_**SUMMARY**: Amber has survived the cloning process, leaving a young Mewtwo alone with nothing but her memory to sustain him. Meanwhile Amber is now sixteen, confined to a solitary life with big dreams on New Island. However, her life is about to change once her old friend awakens...but is the shadow of Team Rocket's leader, Giovanni, looming over their companionship? What does he have in store for them?_

_**DISCLAIMER**: I DO NOT own the Pokemon franchise in any way, shape, or form!  
_

"**Whispers in the Dark"**

_Prologue_

"Calm down..." he said, even through his own tears. He reached a hand towards me to console me, and not knowing that my time was soon to end as well, I slapped it away in retaliation. My fists clenched and I felt myself losing. The agony of loss wracked my body for the final time.

"No...no...too many have gone away..." I cried in anguish, mourning our latest friend. My eyes clenched shut and tears began to spill down my cheeks. I sensed the temperature dropping as I sobbed, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself alone in the dark.

"Mewtwo?" I beckoned...things were blacking out...I was no longer in the familiar neighborhood of my Remember Place, I realized with the sharp slap of fear. I heard a humming sound in the distance, where the moon should have been, and a frantic beeping followed. I had never heard such a sound. I gasped, my eyes wide with fear. Something terrible was happening!!

"Mewtwo!!" I shouted, terrified and beginning to shiver as the temperature dropped even still. I groped about in the darkness, shaking, horrified that what I sensed was true -- I was alone. I began flailing my arms, and I hit something in the darkness. It felt cold and glassy. I lurched backwards in shock, and my back was hit with the same barrier.

"What's going on?!?" I screamed as I began pounding at the unseen obstacle before me. I began to choke, finding it harder and harder to breath, as though my lungs were being filled with something cold and thick. "Where are you?!? Am I...?"

And then I was born.

When the glass finally gave, I came tumbling down in a cascade of fluid and shards. I landed hard on the navy-tiled floor of the laboratory's cloning chamber, on my side, gasping and choking on my first labored breaths of real air and coughing up a foul-tasting liquid. The umbilical tubes and wiring which had been sustaining my physical condition behind the glass were mostly torn rudely from my body, leaving me aching and hollowed. The shards of my broken life chamber cut my body, making me sting and bleed for the first time. Darkness haunted me and fear permeated every fiber of my being as I lie there weakly on my side amid the twinkling glass and cold fluid. A million sounds, smells and sensations met my virgin senses. I smelled for the very first time the liquid in which I had been encased...a frigid, sour scent. I heard its tentative _drip drip drip _onto the tiles behind me, along with the indifferent hum of machinery in the dark. There was a shrill alarm sounding somewhere above me. I sensed a pain in my stomach, the tight cramps of fear, along with the sharp sting of the incisions I had sustained...what was going on?? Was this life??? Or had I just died...?

_I must've died, _I thought, afraid to move or open my eyes. I simply cringed. _I'm like all the others now...Charmandertwo...Bulbasaurtwo. Alone...forever..._

I began to sob, clenching my fists tightly and driving glass shards deep into my palms and underneath my fingernails. I gasped in pain and my eyes flared open. The room was very dark. Things were blurry and my eyes stung as I blinked blindly, trying to focus on my hands. I opened my fists, turned my palms up and saw that they were shaking violently, a new liquid welling up and dripping limply onto the flood. With wonder, I took a finger and dipped it into my left open palm...an angry red color dyed my finger. I had never seen my body cry before. More hot tears welled up in my eyes as I turned my head and examined my surroundings...darkness. Just darkness. But illuminated in a far corner of the room were other life chambers. I recognized Bulbasaurtwo, the friend I had just lost. I lifted my head hopefully, thinking perhaps I wasn't alone.

"Bulbasaurtwo?" I called tentatively. He didn't answer. I called again, louder. Still no answer. I giggled. _Silly Bulbasaurtwo!, _I thought with relief. I then began to crawl to my feet, vaguely aware that I was no longer wearing my favorite yellow dress. I wobbled as I began to lift myself up with my knees. I spread my arms for balance and began taking small steps towards my friend, more glass shards embedding themselves into the pads of my feet as I progressed. Finally I reached his chamber. I steadied myself by placing my hands upon the smooth glass, leaving small handprints of blood. I looked up at him with a smile and called his name once again, lifting myself up on my tip-toes to see him clearer.

He bore no expression on his face, and his eyes were like large red marbles -- lifeless and frozen in death. My head lowered. I realized, this must be where you go when you die. Yes. This must be Death. I began to hear more noises, clamoring, from somewhere outside of the room...voices...loud, frantic voices, and an army of footsteps. I turned to face them, leaning my back against my dead friend's chamber.

"It...it must be Jesus," I said softly, thinking of the angry color dripping forth from my palms. I looked down at them wistfully. "He's...He's coming to take me Home." I found myself smiling, comforted, as I began to slide back down to my feet. I drew my knees up to my chin in a tight upwards fetal position. I buried my forehead into my knees and felt the darkness take me. Within moments I heard Him enter the room. He began crying my name...and...and...

---

A transcript of Dr. Andrew Fuji's voice-records, dated November 14th, 1996:

Marred by both death and birth, today shall forever go down in the history of science as the day of the first human clone. The third attempt at recreating my daughter, my dearest Amber, has finally succeeded!! She is the first...and God willing may she be the last. After five long years of living an artificial life in her growth chamber, with only a few brainwaves on a chart to even suggest that she be alive, she finally burst forth from her tube at approximately 10:11 AM this very morning. Our best research -- and we are very vague on this at the moment -- indicates that some jarring disruption in her cerebral neurotransmitters stimulated her into consciousness. Somehow, Dr. Lana Beranhoff's hypothesis that all the creatures in our experiment might be somehow connected on a psychic level, no longer seems so absurd to me...could it be that the stimuli that so rudely thrust my daughter into being was the loss of experiment 1839? A young Bulbasaur, I believe. It's true that there are several frequencies in our subjects' brainwaves that we do not understand...but to think that they are all mentally linked, is a little far-fetched, isn't it? But at the moment, it's all we have to go on...

On a personal level, my God. I'm so glad that You exist...You've answered my every prayer. I just, I...I can't...She can't speak. She can't walk, she can barely breathe on her own. She's so weak. She drifts in and out of consciousness. But she's my little angel. She's my little angel Amber...

She sustained some injuries from the remains of her container. We must keep watch over her 24/7 to insure that they do not get infected. Her immune system is probably very weak, spending her first five years in a sterile environment. I must get back to her!!

Life is so very fragile...


	2. Chapter 1: Less Than Human

_**SUMMARY**: Amber has survived the cloning process, leaving a young Mewtwo alone with nothing but her memory to sustain him. Meanwhile Amber is now sixteen, confined to a solitary life with big dreams on New Island. However, her life is about to change once her old friend awakens...but is the shadow of Team Rocket's leader, Giovanni, looming over their companionship? What does he have in store for them?_

_**DISCLAIMER**: I DO NOT own the Pokemon franchise in any way, shape, or form!_

**"Whispers in the Dark"**

_Chapter I. - Less Than Human_

"Be careful around #11, Amber," Ms. Lana warned me for the fortieth time, as she whisked her large brown purse over her arm. "That Eevee. She's very...cheeky." It was the end of the day and she was preparing to make her way down to the dock to catch the 5 PM ferry to the mainland. I merely chuckled.

"Oh, Cheyenne? She's my favorite!" I exclaimed with a grin. I was changing the water and feeding the Pokemon in the D-wing of the New Island Experimental Research Facility, as was my chore since I was about nine or ten. But Ms. Lana was still not quite comfortable with the idea of me being around her subjects. I scooted the large kibble dispenser, with a loud squeak, down the run to rest in front of kennel #11, and shot a reassuring glance at Ms. Lana as I dropped to my knees and began to unlock the chainlink door. "See? You've just gotta treat her with...oh." I stopped suddenly.

"What?" Ms. Lana said, concerned. She began rushing over to me, her long white labcoat flowing behind her. Her black, low-heeled slippers made a soft, familiar tapping sound against the dark blue tiling of the room. "Did she bite you?? Oh Amber, I told you she's--"

"No," I interrupted sullenly with a sigh. "She won't be biting anyone, actually." I took a black marker from my pocket and, picking up the clipboard that had been hanging from #11's door, I drew a single, thick black gash through the paper that sat on top.

"Oh..." Ms. Lana said quietly, understanding. There was a moment of silence, and then she placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. "There, there, Amber..."

More and more clones were dying these days...and each one was an arrow through my heart. Dad would be disappointed, as well. I bit my lip softly and slipped the clipboard back onto Cheyenne's door and stared at the black gash I had made, as though I didn't understand it. But the truth was, I DID understand it. And as each day passed, I was getting to know the concept of death more closely than I was comfortable.

Ms. Lana shook her head gently, her short, brown curls bobbing. Over my shoulder, I sensed the familiar motion of her adjusting her thin-rimmed glasses as I climbed to my feet, using the large kibble dispenser to steady myself. I began to roll it solemnly down the run to the next crate, where a hungry Poochyena was eagerly awaiting his meal.

"Some just...aren't meant to live," Ms. Lana said sadly, as though I were a toddler and she was trying to explain to me why my pet goldfish had died. There was another moment of awkward silence. My hands tightened on the cold metal handlebar of the dispenser. Then, with a soft flap of her coat, she turned and began to leave, her heels almost tapping in tune with the hum of the florescent lights above us. I heard her sigh. "It's a sad fact, but..." Her voice trailed off in thought, and I wondered if she was thinking what I was thinking. As she grasped the silver doorknob and began to turn it, she added softly: "You know that."

I froze. Once I heard Ms. Lana walk out the door and begin to tap her way down to the foyer, I let out a shuddery sigh that I had been holding in. My hands slowly loosened their grip on the dispenser handlebar, and I then sank to the floor, burying my forehead into my knees as I hugged my shins tightly. It was then that I found myself overcome with the same feelings that had been haunting me for a year now. I sobbed, mourning Cheyenne, mourning Pikaboo, mourning all the clones -- young and old -- that this run had seen pass silently away over the past six months...all with Ms. Lana's words echoing in my mind.

Some just aren't meant to live. Was I?

---

"Is everything alright, Amber?" Dad asked me as I wordlessly drifted into his office, closing the door gently behind me so as to not derail any train of thought he might have had chugging along. I sank into one of the deep navy-blue chairs in the corner of the dimly-lit office, glancing up at him.

"Yeah," I answered. I plastered a smile onto my face to prove this, and secretly I hoped that my eyes were no longer irritated from all the crying I had done during my chores earlier. "Everything's fine."

Dad's eyes shifted up from his paperwork to meet mine, and one thick brown eyebrow rose at me in steady skepticism. Obviously a rogue note in my voice had betrayed me. Dad then removed his reading glasses and sat back in his large black computer chair, sighing and stretching at the same time. I could almost hear the vertebrae in his back cracking one by one. I knew I was in for it now.

"I taught you a lot of things, Amber," he replied with a yawn, placing an elbow on his desk and resting his chin in his hand. He looked at me, unimpressed. "But I never taught you to lie properly."

"Not lying, dad."

"I know you."

"Obviously you don't."

"Why have you been crying?"

"I came in here because I didn't want to be alone," I replied tersely, blushing and ignoring the question. "I wasn't expecting the third degree."

Dad ignored me. "It's because you think you're next, don't you?"

I paused. This question had caught me off guard. I began to joggle my right leg up and down quickly, and I swept my long black hair behind my ear nervously as I glanced at the floor. My black eyebrows furrowed as I sat up in my seat attentively. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied indignantly. Though as usual, dad was right on the money.

"Our clones have been dying, and you think you're next."

There was a silence between us, filled only with the sound of the air conditioning unit kicking on momentarily. I looked him in the eyes sharply, and he passively met my gaze. After what seemed like an eternity, I backed down with a sigh -- I then slouched back in my seat. I looked across the room at my father, with a face doused in worry.

"What if I am?" I asked anxiously. "What if I _am_ next?"

Dad frowned at me. He then rolled his seat back from his large mahogany desk, got to his feet with a soft groan of pain, and began walking over to me stiffly. His footfalls were quiet on the deep blue carpeting of the office. Dad was only fifty-four, but already suffering with mild rheumatoid arthritis in his hips and knee-joints. I watched him as he stopped to stand before me, and, with great labor, got down on one knee. I cringed for him.

"Amber..." he said with a deep sigh, taking my hands and holding them. He squeezed them reassuringly, and I felt my eyes beginning to moisten once again. Dad always had a way of getting my deepest feelings to come out. "You're too young to worry about death."

"But it's happening, dad," I protested, my voice shaking precariously as a hot tear slid down my cheek. "It's happening so close."

"I know," dad replied, "but really...don't worry yourself so much. There are literally a hundred thousand reasons why these things are happening. Ms. Lana, James and I are relatively certain that it's in the gene pool of these particular Pokemon. Ever since embryonic research was banned, it's been so hard to get healthy ones...and that has nothing to do with you."

"But...but what if it's a flaw?" I asked, my voice cracking. I clenched my fists tightly inside of my father's hands.

Dad paused and looked up at me, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

I sniffled, "I mean...what if we're flaws? All of us? Me, Cheyenne...all of your clones. What if we're not meant to live? What if God hates us??"

"If He should hate anyone," dad replied cynically, "it would be me. Not you." Dad's views on God and religion were all very pessimistic, and on a normal basis, I would know much better than to even mention it. When I was younger, I often wondered why I had to tip-toe around the topic. But now that I was older, I knew that in this line of work, religion had very little room to wave its finger.

"But you're a human, you're normal."

Dad laughed, "You're a human too, you know."

"I'm a copy!" I growled, feeling a spark of anger in my chest. With that single statement, he had hit a very tender spot in my heart and inflamed it with self-loathing. More tears began to well up in my gray eyes and spill over my thick lashes, taking my mascara with them. My eyebrows furrowed darkly, and I watched my dad's frown deepen. "I'm less than human. I'm...I'm a science project."

"Amber Elizabeth Fuji," dad said sternly, which would normally make me cringe. "You are no freak of nature. I've taught you better than to believe that."

I snorted sarcastically as I jerked my hands away from him. I looked at him, annoyed. "You haven't taught me to believe in anything."

"Meaning?" he demanded, stiffly raising himself to his feet. He placed his hands in the pockets of his long white labcoat and frowned down at me.

I grasped the wooden arms of the chair I was sitting in, aware that I was about to go someplace I shouldn't dare...but my anger was insatiable. "Meaning, all you care about is your research. You don't care that you're making yourself God. And you don't care that you robbed me of mine!!"

Dad waved a hand at me and turned back towards his desk, "I'm not having this conversation with you again, Amber."

"Why not? What are you so afraid of??"

"You don't talk about things you don't understand," he said coldly, sitting back down at his desk. He then began to rummage through his paperwork.

"Oh I understand perfectly! You created me and then decide to keep me stuck on this damn island, and try to force all your beliefs on me!" I argued with a sob. I stood up and clenched my fists at my sides as dad looked up at me, taken aback by my outburst. "The only friends I have are Pokemon, and now they're all dying...you can't even do THAT right!!"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them, but there was no use for that. Dad immediately slammed a fist down on his desk, narrowly missing his reading glasses and causing me to jump in surprise. He glared at me intensely from across the room. "That's enough!" He shouted, making me cringe as his words reverberated tightly off the walls. He cast me with a sharp stare, which I felt stab my heart. He had only been trying to help me, and I had gone and stupidly crossed a very defined line. "Now get out of here," he spat as he returned his attention to his paperwork. He jabbed a finger towards the door. "I have work to do."

I remained there for a moment, debating whether or not to apologize. In the end, though, I just left the room without a word.

---

A transcript of Dr. Andrew Fuji's voice-records, dated October 13th, 2007:

*Sighs*...I may be one of the world's top scientists, but...raising a teenager is the hardest work I've ever done.

At times, my Amber is unreachable, at best. If it weren't for Lana...well...I don't know what I would do. There would be no understanding my daughter if I didn't have Ms. Beranhoff around to translate her actions for me. I love her with all my heart...she will always be my little girl, my little angel. But as of late, discussing anything, it's like walking on eggshells. She can be so...irritable. She will go completely up the wall about the smallest remarks, but bless her heart...I do understand her anger. Perhaps I'm wrong in keeping her confined to this island. But could the world possibly understand what I've done, and why I've done it?? How do I explain where a sixteen-year-old girl suddenly appears from...? One bearing the same likeness of my deceased daughter?

Dearest Amber...if only you fully understood, that it's not my decision. If the world ever discovered that I had recreated my dead daughter...I would lose you...all of my funding, all of my freedom...possibly my life...and...and _him_. What would happen to him...?

*Sighs*...I try to avoid talking about Mewtwo, as much as possible. Not out of shame, mind you...every ounce of my life's work has gone into his creation, and I'm in no way shameful of this...but I fear for his future. Every day I fear that alarm, just as much as I anxiously await it. I and everyone else on my team worries themselves sick on a daily basis, minute by minute, fearing that something should go wrong. But mostly I fear that damn alarm. The alarm that tells us, it's time. What exactly does Giovanni have in store for him? That is what I fear the most...

It has been seventeen long years now...it's almost time. I feel it in my heart, as I felt it with my dear little Amber. It's in his brainwaves...they become so erratic at times. Especially these past few nights. What is going through that sedated, unborn mind of his...?

*Chuckles*...Amber once told me...that she knew him. She was younger, much younger...but I suppose children will say anything -- after all, I did talk much more about my work back then...Still. Her description, was uncanny...

Well...with the boss coming in for a full progress report tomorrow, I suppose we shall soon see what the future has in store for us, hm?


	3. Chapter 2: Feeling Ill

_**SUMMARY**: Amber has survived the cloning process, leaving a young Mewtwo alone with nothing but her memory to sustain him. Meanwhile Amber is now sixteen, confined to a solitary life with big dreams on New Island. However, her life is about to change once her old friend awakens...but is the shadow of Team Rocket's leader, Giovanni, looming over their companionship? What does he have in store for them?_

_**DISCLAIMER**: I DO NOT own the Pokemon franchise in any way, shape, or form!_

**"Whispers in the Dark"**

_Chapter II. - Feeling Ill_

_...Amber?...Amber?..._

I was dreaming. I was in a stately neighborhood, lined with well-trimmed trees and sturdy sidewalks. Fluffy white clouds painted the pristine blue canvas above the rooftops, but no birds flew and the clouds did not move.

_...Amber??_

It was almost as though I were floating down the tidy, unlittered streets, for I didn't feel my legs moving. No cars met me, and I saw no lights -- or faces -- behind the windows of the happy yellow houses lining the suburban dreamscape. Not a soul stirred, and I felt something vague in the back of my mind, like a memory, teetering on the edge of remembrance, trying to force itself through the impenetrable wall of my foggy ignorance.

_Amber..._

Floating on some pre-destined path, I looked over my shoulder...had someone called my name? It sounded like a young boy's voice. Surely not...surely I was alone here. I passed a bright red STOP sign and realized, this world was towering over me. I stood no taller than a child. The sky seemed mysteriously darker, and behind the flawlessly blue sky, I could see traces of a pale moon rising.

_Amber...?_

I frowned. Someone was most definitely calling for me, on this peaceful dreamwalk down Memory Lane...but...who's memory was this? I had never seen a real house before...much less a suburb. I had lived all my life on New Island, with my father and his team of scientists. Kept away from the world, like a bad secret...

_Amber_.

...And then I realized. I gasped in shock, but my ears were met with no sound. I was walking through Amber's memory...her memories...from before. The sky darkened and I could see stars beginning to twinkle through the clouds...the happy yellow houses were beginning to elongate, painted in a melancholy afternoon orange...I felt like crying. Some distant sadness, from the back of my mind, was tearing at my heart with long, jagged claws...some unimaginable burden of depression was pressing down on my shoulders...a memory that I just couldn't recall. My eyes watered in frustration.

_Don't cry, Amber..._

_Who are you?, _I wondered...and my eyes widened when I heard my words echo back at me, empty and hollow, but aloud nonetheless. It was now completely nighttime, and the round streetlamps were coming on one by one in my direction, in a bright white glow that somehow illuminated nothing save the concrete street before me. I felt the world twist inside my stomach. A tear rolled down my cheek.

_I'm Mewtwo...don't you remember?..._

I didn't reply...but that was the name. The memory. The claw in my heart. I began to weep, and the weight lifted. I raised my hands to my eyes to wipe away the tears, when I saw that my hands were quite small. I looked down and noticed tiny white slippers, and the hem of a faded gown...I touched the soft, worn fabric and felt something like an electric shock course through my brain. I gasped as the tears rolled down my small pale cheeks, one by one.

_Don't you know where you are, Amber?_

_Mewtwo?, _I cried shakily into the darkness. The name felt so familiar in my mind that I couldn't believe it had remained forgotten for so very long.

_I'm right here..._

_I remember now, _I sobbed quietly, raking the tears from my eyes. But they fell too fast and trickled down my chin. _You were...like me. A copy...an experiment...Dad created us both. This is my Remember Place...it's where I used to live! Where _we _used to live!_

_Yes...I've been keeping it for you. Is it like you remembered? Before you died?_

_I didn't die, Mewtwo, _I sniffled, looking through my tears down the street. It was so dark now that the streetlamps did nothing...yet I sensed someone was there. Somewhere beyond the fatalistic glow. _I was born!_

There was silence, and then...

_What's "born", Amber?_

_I'm alive...like you will be!, _I called to the falling darkness. My dreamwalking was bringing me nearer and nearer to something. I squinted my eyes but still saw nothing. But behind the dying dream, I felt it. I tried to run to it, but my legs wouldn't move. Was it him?

_Amber? Will I see you again?_

_I think so, _I answered, and I began to hear new sounds. Like ringing, from someplace distant. It seemed to go on and on.

_Amber...Amber, you're waking up..._

I looked around and my Remember Place began fading to black. Gone entirely were the trees and happy yellow houses...even the moon and twinkling stars had disappeared into the velvet folds of darkness. All that remained was the concrete path ahead, and it was being steadily eaten up by the trickling obsidian beyond.

_Amber? Please...I want to be born._

_I know, _I answered, feeling the melancholy in his fading voice...I strained to hear his reply...it was nothing more than a whisper in the dark.

_Be there for me..._

_Mewtwo!!, _I shouted desperately, and the last of the light was gone. I was now suspended in a pit, a void of neon black. I cried one last time: _Mewtwo! I'll be there for y--_

---

"Amber? Amber, oh you silly thing...wake up!"

I awoke with a jerk, and I heard a startled reply.

"Amber!! For goodness' sake, it's about time you got up. Your alarm clock's been ringing for almost an hour now, and...and..." Her voice trailed off.

My eyes had flared open, and the first thing I noticed was that I was soaked in an almost unbearably cold sweat. Secondly, Ms. Lana was stooped over me, looking concerned and reaching a hand towards my forehead. Too stunned to fight back, I let her touch my clammy face while I stared up at the white ceiling, gasping for air. My heart was beating furiously in my chest, and I was breathing as though I had been sprinting instead of sleeping. My joints ached and creaked with every small movement, and my brain was throbbing in my skull -- I felt inexplicably rattled to the core.

_What the hell??, _I thought, frightened. I felt as though I were on the verge of a panic attack, with nervous bugs crawling through my stomach and down my legs, just underneath the skin. I felt my belly twist in a cold cramp, and I heard Ms. Lana call my name tentatively, as though she were quite worried. She reached for me but I slapped her hands away suddenly and leaned over the edge of my bed, fearing that I would throw up. Ms. Lana took a cautious step backwards, and before I knew what was going on, she was running clumsily out of my room and calling for my father. As I inhaled and exhaled slowly, gripping my mattress tightly and trying to suppress the urge to vomit, I simply did not care.

I knew I had had the dream...again. And this time, it was serious.


	4. Chapter 3: The Ghosts That Haunt Me

_**SUMMARY**: Amber has survived the cloning process, leaving a young Mewtwo alone with nothing but her memory to sustain him. Meanwhile Amber is now sixteen, confined to a solitary life with big dreams on New Island. However, her life is about to change once her old friend awakens...but is the shadow of Team Rocket's leader, Giovanni, looming over their companionship? What does he have in store for them?_

_**DISCLAIMER**: I DO NOT own the Pokemon franchise in any way, shape, or form!_

**"Whispers in the Dark"**

_Chapter III. - The Ghosts That Haunt Me_

"I still don't think you should be doing this," Ms. Lana said uneasily as she stood over my bed, crossing her arms over her breasts. She was watching me avidly, looking very concerned. Her full brown eyebrows were taut with worry. "You're ill. You need to rest."

I shook my head wearily. "I feel fine," I answered, sitting slumped on the edge of my unmade bed, trying to reassure her. Trying to reassure _myself._ But the truth was, I was feeling quite afraid.

By the time my dad and Ms. Lana had rushed back to my room, my mysterious condition had swiftly passed, leaving me with only a single feverish ache in the back of my temples and a small whisper of fatigue. After deducing that I had probably caught a small strain of the flu, my father had returned to his labwork, making me promise to stay in bed today. But, the clones in the boarding hall still needed to be fed and the runs still needed to be cleaned, and though I verily did not feel like doing this -- or anything, for that matter -- I needed a distraction. A big one. For little did my father or Ms. Lana know, but there was far more on my mind at the moment than just being sick with a stomach bug. There was the mysterious dream.

Over the past three nights, the dream had gotten consistently more detailed, drawing more and more memories up from the inevitably dark well of my mind...and what had started as an unintelligibly soft whisper had turned into a full-fledged voice last night. A little boy's voice that seemed to penetrate my mind as I made my way down some nameless suburb -- a memory that was ingrained into my soul from before I had even existed. Amber's Remember Place. Amber's memory, but not _mine. _I was only a copy, after all. I was Ambertwo. A clone. And in the beginning, I had lived in the soft memories of my predecessor...the memories of a five-year-old girl who had died too soon. A five-year-old girl whom I had been created solely to replace. Amber Elizabeth Fuji.

I felt shivers run down my spine at that thought. Somewhere on the mainland, in a cemetery who's name was known only to my father, there lay a headstone inscribed with my very name...no. I refused to think about that.

My father had never hidden my origins from me. Born to the earth at the fairly cognitive and mentally developed age of five, I had remembered life in the artificial womb...I remembered Amber's Remember Place. I remembered Mewtwo. I remembered Bulbasaurtwo and Charmandertwo and the countless others before them. But as my father and Ms. Lana tutored and conditioned me, I found that I began to remember less and less, until one day, my earliest memory was simply smashing through my life chamber...anything before that eluded me -- as though it were shrouded in a fog. But like any old memory, I knew it was there all the same. I just couldn't reach it. And until I began having these dreams three nights ago, and hearing the hauntingly familiar little boy's voice, I had believed they would stay that way forever.

But who was I kidding? I knew very well that Mewtwo was no little boy. Mewtwo was a Pokemon, one of my father's numerous creations whom I had shared the first five years of my life with -- side-by-side in separate containment tubes, but linked together on some level above the physical.

It all seemed to strange to me...like some kind of science fiction movie...but considering that I was, in fact, the world's first human clone who lived almost one-hundred miles off the mainland on a small island with a state-of-the-art laboratory built through the funding of a blacklist organization, my life was already a science fiction movie in and of itself. Anything else was simply extra. I found myself chuckling cynically.

_Oh, dad, _I thought with a small sneer, _you're going to be so pleased about this_.

"Amber?" Ms. Lana pressed questioningly.

"Yes?" I answered, turning my head groggily to face her. I had been so lost in thought that I had forgotten she was even still in the room.

She had her head tilted slightly to the side, giving me that look -- that look that said she knew for a fact that there was something bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin, something that I wasn't completely sharing. Ms. Lana often knew when I was keeping secrets...I wasn't sure whether it was because I was bad at keeping them, or if she was just good at getting them to come out.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked me again, though we both knew the answer to that was a big, hearty 'no'. "You're acting...strangely."

I thought for a moment. I drew my legs up and crossed them so that I was sitting Indian-style on the very edge of my bed. I placed an elbow on my right thigh and rested my chin in my palm. I looked up at Ms. Lana curiously, my black hair hanging in wavy unbrushed strings down my shoulders and back. I decided that it couldn't hurt to ask..."Lana?"

"Yes?", She answered, a little too earnestly. Behind her thin-rimmed glasses, her deep blue eyes never left mine. She reached a white-sleeved arm out towards me and placed her hand on my back reassuringly, taking a seat next to me on the edge of my unmade bed. Her weight sank the mattress slightly, causing me to lean in towards her. I straightened myself as she asked: "What is it?"

"Who's Mewtwo?"

Ms. Lana blinked and her eyebrows raised. There was silence as she looked at me with great interest, but not necessarily with the shock I had anticipated. I kept my eyes on her so as to not back down, and I watched as she slowly withdrew her hand from my back and crossed her arms in her lap. She absently bit her bottom lip as she stared past me in thought. Just when I decided that she was simply thinking of a clever cop-out, she broke the silence:

"My, my, my..." she said softly, looking forward. I followed her gaze and found that she was examining my Kittie poster on the far wall, tacked up unevenly with curling edges. I remembered I had been so excited to get it that I hadn't even bothered to line it up with the ceiling. Ms. Lana then looked back at me, and I tore my eyes and thoughts away from the poster. "It's been ages since you mentioned him."

"Lana..." I said impatiently, leaning in towards her. "I've been dreaming about him for the past three nights in a row. Why is that?"

Ms. Lana thought for a moment, looking away again. Her eyes shifted from the left to the right, as though she were in deep thought about something. Intrigued, I watched her brown eyebrows begin to crinkle into a frown, and below them, her deep blue eyes appeared to be reaching a decision about something. "Dreaming?...Of Mewtwo? For the past three nights?"

"Yeah," I answered, watching her frown with curiosity. I raised an eyebrow at her. "Is...is something wrong?"

"Amber," she said excitedly, and I almost jumped when she turned and grabbed my forearm gently. She leaned in towards me and behind the flawlessly clean lens of her glasses, I could see a mysterious sparkle in her eyes. She was also smiling. "Let me show you something."

I blinked at her for a moment, wondering what on earth I had said that had gotten to her so, but before I could even open my mouth to question her she had jumped to her feet and began to walk briskly towards my door, her long white labcoat trailing behind her.

"Uh...okay," I said, unsure, given no other option but to agree as she opened my door and stepped over the threshold. As she walked out, she threw me a glance over her shoulder.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she said quickly, and then she was gone. Left sitting cross-legged on the edge of my bed and blinking in surprise, I simply listened as her footfalls tapped softly down the hallway, one after another after another, until they faded into silence.

---

"What are these?" I asked, puzzled, flipping through the pages of the red folder that Ms. Lana had handed to me. Bradded into the spine of the folder were several sheets of coarse white paper, with what appeared to mostly be squiggly, sloping lines meandering across them horizontally. I turned the folder a few times in my hands, not sure which way was the proper way to view it. There were no labels.

"We don't label our work with Mewtwo," Ms. Lana explained, plucking the folder from my hands and turning it sideways. "At least not anything that leaves the lab. That's to insure that he stays top secret."

"Top secret?" I asked, taken aback. I looked up at Ms. Lana, who was excitedly observing the squiggly contents of the folder. "Then shouldn't I not be seeing this?"

Ms. Lana shrugged. "You're the boss's daughter. Besides. Who are you going to tell?"

Fighting back the urge to shoot her a glare, I would've been offended if not for the fact that she was utterly right. I shrugged it off.

"So why are you showing me this?" I asked, looking up at her curiously. "You know I don't understand this scientific gobbledygook."

"It's fairly simple, Amber," Ms. Lana said reassuringly. She snatched the folder up from me and thumbed through the pages until she got to the first one. "Do you see this?" She said, pointing to the squigglies and tracing the hills and slopes with her index finger. "This is a sample of Mewtwo's brainwaves, the way they are under normal conditions. See how calm they are, and how they form a pattern?"

I nodded, my eyes following her finger as they traced the black ink.

"Then take a look at _this," _she said, flipping a few pages forward.

"Wow," I said softly, my eyes following the jagged spikes and grades of the electroencephalogram. This chart was completely different from the first, looking like a landscape full of a bunch of tall, frantic and poorly drawn mountains. "What caused this?"

Ms. Lana shut the folder and looked at me excitedly. "That's what we _didn't _know," she said plainly with a knowing smile, "until now."

I looked up at her, confused, and watched her as she then walked past me, straightened her skirt and sat down on the edge of my bed, which I had taken the liberty to fix while she had been out fetching the folder. I turned and stood before her, expecting her to embellish, but she didn't. She merely thumbed through the folder once again, her brown curls hanging in her face, and I was surprised to even hear her chuckle.

"Well?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and shrugging. "I don't get it."

"Amber, don't you think it's odd," Ms. Lana continued, shutting the folder and looking up at me avidly, "that this strange brain activity started exactly _three nights ago?"_

I gasped. If what Ms. Lana was saying was true, then...

"You think he's been trying to...to contact me?" I asked worriedly, taking a step towards Ms. Lana. My fists clenched at my sides anxiously and I felt nervous butterflies in my stomach. "Through my dreams??"

Ms. Lana nodded, "That's precisely what I think." She then shrugged, "After all, it was my hypothesis twelve years ago that you, Mewtwo and all the other Pokemon that were in life chambers at the time, were connected on some psychic level. Your father never took me seriously, but--"

"He's going to wake up soon," I interrupted her softly, crossing my arms across my breasts and looking down at the floor, remembering Mewtwo's last words. Remembering my promise to be there for him. Remembering the happy yellow houses of my Remember Place, and how Mewtwo had tried to keep that memory alive for me...I shuddered.

"Hmm?" Ms. Lana said curiously, straightening up. "What do you mean?"

"He wants to be born," I replied, my eyebrows furrowing as I remembered the dream. I took a seat beside Ms. Lana on the edge of my bed, and clasped my hands together at my knees. I then looked up at her, "That's what he said. And...and I promised to be there for him."

Ms. Lana nodded with a smile, "And so you shall be."

"Wow," I said with a chuckle, looking forward with a grin. I was excited at the possibilities. "And here I thought I was just going crazy..."

"Hey," Ms. Lana said suddenly, jumping to her feet. She stood before me, clasping the red folder across her chest. "Get dressed and meet me at your father's office in ten minutes. I have something else to show you."


	5. Chapter 4: Varying Shades of Gray

_**SUMMARY**: Amber has survived the cloning process, leaving a young Mewtwo alone with nothing but her memory to sustain him. Meanwhile Amber is now sixteen, confined to a solitary life with big dreams on New Island. However, her life is about to change once her old friend awakens...but is the shadow of Team Rocket's leader, Giovanni, looming over their companionship? What does he have in store for them?_

_**DISCLAIMER**: I DO NOT own the Pokemon franchise in any way, shape, or form!_

**"Whispers in the Dark"**

_Chapter IV. - Varying Shades of Gray_

I rushed frantically about my room, inwardly cursing Ms. Lana, for she knew very well that it would take me far more than ten minutes to get dressed. It usually took me ten minutes just to get my hair brushed and detangled from the night before, but I decided that now was not the time to waste on vanity. I grabbed my light brown brush from my nightstand and began to run it through my rats-nest hair in fast, steady strokes. Soon it became a midnight cascade of black waves down the middle of my back, almost to my waist.

I peeled my forest green spaghetti-strap tank off along with my baggy black trackpants, flung them both on the bed in a messy pile, and then ran to the closet in the corner of my room, stumping my big toe on one of the wheels of my black computer chair on the way.

"Ow ow ow!" I muttered, hopping for a few steps and grimacing in pain. I then stopped and drew my knee up to my chest, rubbing the pain out of my toe. I shook my head at my own clumsiness, and then I stepped over to my closet. I pulled the sliding wooden doors back to reveal a darkly-clad menagerie of clothing.

I stood there for a moment, running color combinations through my head as I scanned through the multitude of tanks, blouses, tees, boots, sneakers, jeans and skirts scattered about my closet. My dad's funding more or less made us rich, and him being the sympathetic type, I knew he allowed me to buy and wear what I wanted out of guilt. I never complained.

In my mind, I settled on my black Otep tank. I then set out finding it within the depths of my closet, digging my arms into the mess and sliding each piece of clothing along the hanger rail to the left in my search. After a minute or two of mounting worry, I reached the furthermost right side of my closet, and still no tank. Then I remembered, I had worn it just a few days ago.

I winced, turning around and scanning my room, lump after lump after lump of mostly black wadded-up clothes I had worn sitting crinkled upon the floor. I then found it, hanging off the back of my computer chair. I ran to it, hurriedly kicking a few piles of clothing out of my way and almost tripping over my own feet in the process. I steadied myself with the back of my computer chair and sighed, observing my messy room.

"This isn't my morning," I muttered as I plucked the thin cotton tank from my chair. I spread it out before me to inspect it. It was a little wrinkled, but otherwise just fine. I flapped it a few times to throw the crinkles out, and then I slipped it on over my head. I decided on my red plaid mini to go with it, and found it sitting in a heap next to my bed. I grabbed it and slipped it up my legs. Made of a fabric that would bend and breathe with your every move, it fit snugly around my thighs and came to an end just a couple of inches above my knees. I then slipped on a pair of two-strap black Mary Janes I had sitting near the bed.

As satisfied as I would ever be with my appearance this morning, I decided to quickly scribble some black eyeliner on before leaving my room. I was an extremely self-concious girl, and aware that it wasn't unusual for dad to have guests in the building, I wasn't about to be caught dead by any of them this morning without my makeup on. And as I patted some ivory mineral powder on my cheeks, my face mere centimeters away from the small compact mirror I was so deeply concentrated on, I found myself wondering what exactly Ms. Lana was intending to show me. More graphs?

Placing my eyeliner pencil and powder back into my little skull-print makeup bag and zipping it up hurriedly, I then scrambled for accessories. I settled on a simple black choker with small spikes, and a matching armband with two rows of silver studs. I rushed over to the full-length mirror leaning against the wall next to my closet and struck a pose, studying myself.

What I saw didn't impress me much. The reflection simply showed me a slight sixteen-year-old girl dressed and made up like an emo kid. I raised a hand to my bangs and flipped them, giving them a naturally sideswept look, and I rolled my eyes when I saw that I still looked like crap. However, I knew that there were far more important things afoot this morning than my fashion sense, so, taking a swipe at my skirt and pulling it down my thighs another inch, so as to spare me Ms. Lana and dad's disapproval, I then headed towards the door.

---

I as I stepped into the open, sunlight-flooded foyer of the New Island Research Facility, which separated our living quarters from the research quarters, I noticed a man standing in the corner of the room.

I didn't think much of him as I entered the room, closing the heavy metal door quietly behind me. I simply glanced at him and smiled a welcoming smile. He didn't return it.

He was quite tall and burly, dressed in a loud burnt orange suit and standing with a very dignified posture. He appeared to be in his late forties, with slicked-back deep brown hair and his eyebrows, as well es every other feature of his face, were drown down into a deep frown. He had his large arms crossed behind his back, and I made the mistake of looking right into his black eyes. I was instantly struck with a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I found myself enthralled and unable to look away. He simply frowned down at me as the sunlight flooded in through the windows, hitting his back as he turned to face me and causing his black shadow to fall upon the white tiles before me. I shrank back in awe.

"Excuse me," he said, breaking the awkward silence and causing me to almost jump in surprise. His voice was almost as steely and cold as his appearance. I quickly looked about the room to insure that I was in fact who he was speaking to. "Are you Andrew Fuji's daughter?"

I gulped, for this was a forbidden question. Nobody was supposed to know that Dr. Fuji had a daughter. As he stepped towards me, I saw that he was an even larger man than I had first perceived. His biceps alone were probably as thick as my thigh, and my head only came up to his chest. I gaped up at him, wondering if it was simply his size or something else that made me feel so uneasy. Then, lie or not, I decided I should probably answer him.

"Um..." I started, fumbling for my stock response. I pretended to glance away, for I had been told several times that I was a bad liar. "I'm the daughter of one of his colleagues. Carlton McCalister."

To my surprise, the corner of the man's mouth lifted into a sneer. "There is no Carlton McCalister on your father's staff, Amber."

I gasped. How did he know my name? Had my dad's secret been found out? I simply stared up at him awkwardly, wondering why he was so sure of himself.

"No, you're mistaken," I replied quickly, trying to mask the shakiness of my voice by smiling. However, it was hard to smile at such a domineering man. "My name is Jessica McCalister."

The man's sneer deepened. "You're a terrible liar."

Before I could even frown at him, he then offered me his hand. Outside I faintly heard the surf of the ocean against the cliffs, slowly wearing away the stone. I stared at his large open hand, wondering what the consequences would be if I shook it. I tentatively took his hand.

My small, pale hand then disappeared into his as we shook. His hand was very warm and dry, not to mention large. I felt he could've easily broken my hand with a disinterested squeeze on his part.

"There's no need to cover up," his voice rumbled suddenly from above me. I looked up into his deep black eyes once again and got a very foreboding sense that I shouldn't be talking to him. Something about him seemed almost menacing. "I'm your father's boss and funder, Giovanni. I've known about you since long before your...birth. And I must say, it's a pleasure to have finally met you in person." He then let go of my hand.

I simply gaped up at him, my eyes shifting to the right before meeting his once again. My father's boss. The man who had funded my creation, as well as the creation of hundreds of Pokemon over the past sixteen years. If it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't be standing here today. And I was dressed like this? Dad would kill me for sure!!

"Oh, my..." I scrambled, straightening my skirt and wiping the front of my tank instinctively. Blushing madly, I looked back up at Giovanni only to find him chuckling at me.

"Please, there's no need to be nervous," he said gently. To my surprise, a smile began to spread itself across his lips. This first display of genuine human emotion, however, was no comfort to me. It almost felt insincere, as though black spiders of contempt were pulsing just beneath his skin. Then, just as I became aware that I was gaping stupidly at him, his deep black eyes met mine. I quickly looked away, unable to hold his gaze. Something about him made me terribly uneasy. "I'm simply looking for a Ms. Lana Beranhoff," he continued plainly. "Is she here?"

"Yes," I answered, remembering that this was my father's boss and that he was due utmost respect. I then flashed him the brightest smile I could manage. "She should be in my father's office now. Would you like me to take you to her?"

Giovanni returned my smile, "Please."

And as Giovanni and I began to walk down the long corridor towards the labhouse, our footfalls soft on the deep blue carpet, I found myself inwardly cursing myself for coming off as such a fool. _He's a perfectly kind man, _I chastised myself, _What were you thinking?_

---

"Good morning, Giovanni sir!" "How are you, Boss?" "Nice to see you're looking well, Mr. Giovanni!"

Greeting after greeting flew straight over my head toward Giovanni the very second we entered the office portion of the building. I was shocked to see so many staffers stopping everything to salute the man, and all the beaming smiles were almost blinding. As I led him down the hallway towards my father's office, I found myself blushing madly again. Here was a multi-billion-dollar man being saluted and greeted by the highest on my father's staff, being led down a hallway by a girl dressed like an emo tramp. I found myself groaning underneath my breath as my cheerfulness went flatter than a seven-year-old soda. Dad really would kill me.

I glanced back behind us as we approached dad's office, and noted that nearly every gray office door was swinging opening as we passed them, with inquisitive faces peeking out.

Within a few long moments, we were standing before the door to my father's office, which was cracked open. I gave it a gentle knock, and then peeked inside. In the dim light of the desk lamp, Ms. Lana, going through some papers on my father's mahogany desk, glanced up at me.

"Come on in, Amber," she said as she continued her search, her short brown hair hanging in her face. She paused for a second to push her glasses back up her nose with a short index finger. "I'm just looking for a file...your father is a wonderful man, but God bless him, he's so untidy! I can't seem to find..." her voice trailed off, and I didn't even need to see her face to know that she had just noticed I wasn't alone as I quietly pushed the door open and entered the room. "Mr. Giovanni! We weren't expecting you here so early!"

Giovanni laughed a deep, rich laugh as he followed me into the office, "Which was exactly why it was the perfect time to come."

I plopped myself into the same deep navy blue chair I had sat in the night before, crossed my legs and quietly observed the two as they exchanged pleasantries. Giovanni's features were very menacing in the dim light of the room. The yellowish-orange light of the green desklamp cast deep shadows over the man's face, which appeared as jagged as a moutainside cliff.

I found myself suddenly wondering exactly why the man was so rich. He looked rich, anyway. He acted rich. He had a very esteemed air about him, of accomplishment, of importance...of dominance. I knew all the money that my father received for his research had passed through Giovanni's fingers first. But how did it get there? And what did he want with all the Pokemon we created for him? Being the caregiver of most of these Pokemon, I had found myself wondering this quite often. I had even asked my dad a handful of times before, only to be given unsatisfactory answers. _Maybe he's in some kind of Pokemon breeding ring, _I thought passively. That would explain why he only wanted certain Pokemon with elite traits. I propped my elbow up on the wooden arm of the chair, and held my chin in my hand as I watched Ms. Lana simultaneously sift through the file cabinet and speak about the weather with Giovanni.

"What's this I've been hearing about your experiments dying?" Giovanni asked, somewhat boldly after a steady pause in the conversation.

My ears perked up, and I watched as Ms. Lana's cheery exterior vanished.

"Who told you this?" Ms. Lana asked after a moment of silence, sounding somewhat surprised as she plucked a file out of the filing cabinet and began to thumb through it.

Giovanni smirked, "Really, Ms. Beranhoff. I provide your Dr. Fuji with over twenty-five percent of my income...I do know what goes on around here."

Ms. Lana's brows raised as she flipped the file shut and held it at her side. She looked sideways at Giovanni, and I could instantly tell that she was slightly offended.

"Well, yes then," she replied, standing her ground. She swiped at her wavy brown bob, sweeping some of her hair behind her ear and revealing her golden earrings. "If you prefer to look at it that way, a number of our experiments _have _passed away recently. But the number is only slightly higher than normal."

"I see," Giovanni replied, rubbing his chin. "Well. Remind your Dr. Fuji about his contract, hm? I would hate to see young Amber homeless...or worse."

"You'll have a chance to discuss that with him directly," Ms. Lana said somewhat quickly, glancing nervously at me. "Dr. Fuji should be here within five minutes. In the meantime, Mr. Giovanni, Amber and I have other things to attend to." She then rushed around dad's desk towards me, her brown clogs softly treading the deep blue carpet and her flawlessly white labcoat billowing behind her. She grabbed me by my pale wrist and began to pull me towards the door. I jumped to my feet and began to follow her, questions reeling in my mind as I almost tripped over my own flats. "Good day, sir," Ms. Lana added with a nod as she opened the door and rushed me out into the hallway. She followed me, and before I could even manage to find the words in my throat to question what he had meant, the door had been slammed shut. But not before I caught a glimpse of Giovanni's almost haunting sneer.

---

"Jesus, Ms. Lana," I complained as she grabbed me tightly by the wrist and began to pull me quickly down the wide, pale hallway. "What's the rush?? And what did he mean by--"

"Look, Amber," she said sternly, turning to face me. She let go of my wrist and I promptly began to rub it while frowning at her. "Don't you listen to anything that man said to you. You're _not _joining them."

"Um...what?" I asked, at a total loss for words. Ms. Lana was only in her late forties, but today I was beginning to feel that she'd already gone over the edge. I watched her stern face as she studied me through her thin-rimmed glasses, the pale florescent lighting making both of us look sick and colorless. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He didn't talk to you about...?" Her voice trailed off as she tightly pursed her thin pink lips, looking me in the eyes as though she were trying to uncover some rogue thought. I simply frowned at her with one eyebrow cocked, shrugging, just waiting for her to say something that made everything fall into place. It, however, didn't come. Ms. Lana simply shook her head and murmured something underneath her breath. "Look...never mind."

My frown, as well as my confusion, deepened. "Okay?"

"Just don't listen to anything he said," Ms. Lana said softly, shaking her head. "He's not a good man. Your father never wanted him to meet you. That's all."

"Why?" I asked, intrigued. Ms. Lana began to walk down the blue hall again, and I followed her reluctantly.

Ms. Lana sighed. "You were your father's first project. Your father signed a contract to clone and create Pokemon through Giovanni's funding. But your father secretly used much of that money to fund your creation. Giovanni was...not pleased."

"Well..." I said sheepishly, "Forgive and forget, right?"

"Not with these people," Ms. Lana muttered, glancing over her shoulder at me. "I'm sorry Amber. It's just...that man...I don't know."

"I know what you mean," I replied, ducking out of the way of one of my father's colleagues, who's eyes were focused on a clipboard. I looked around and realized that we had just passed the kennel. Beyond the kennel was the E-wing, the last corridor of the labhouse where all the experiment and cloning rooms were -- a very sterile place that I was forbidden to visit. "Hey, where are we going?"

To my relief, Ms. Lana shot me a very sly smile over her shoulder as she stopped walking. "Right here."

---

All the doors this far down in the building were mechanical, and under lock and camera guard at all times. No one could get in -- or out -- without permission from my father, or his second-in-command. This thought made me shudder as a camera mounted on the wall turned to face me. I was close enough to see the almost blue-tinted lens zoom in on me. I waved at it half-heartedly and then turned my attention back to Ms. Lana, who was sifting through the file she'd brought from my father's office. I watched her eyes as she speed-read through each sheet, looking for something.

"Here it is!" She exclaimed quietly with triumph as she stopped on one page. She then began to type in a code into the combination pad next to the third automatic door from the very end of the building. After a moment, the red light on the lock then flashed green. The door slid open with a mechanical sigh, revealing the start of a black steel stairway leading down into the darkness of the room below.

I looked at Ms. Lana dubiously, and then back down at the pit of blackness. She smiled at me and then began to descend the stairwell, with one hand sliding down the banister. After a moment of standing in the doorway and looking down into the dark, I heard a loud _click _from below, and suddenly the stairs were illuminated by little bulbs of light running along the steel. I caught a glimpse of the top of Ms. Lana's head in the dim lighting. She motioned for me to follow her.

With a soft clank I began to descend the stairs, grabbing the steel banisters tightly lest I should fall. With each tiny step I made, I slid my hands along the banister, gripping it tightly and being ever so careful. Behind me, the mechanical door slid shut. I watched it over my shoulder as its light was slowly choked once more into darkness. I continued on.

Down I went, and it seemed to be almost three whole minutes before I reached the end of the stairs. I felt that I was in a medium-sized room, painted black by the darkness. There was a steady hum coming from the opposite side of the room, and a quiet bubbling noise. I smelled something faintly acrid. The black room wasn't cold, nor was it warm...it was somewhere perfectly in between. I also noted that the floor was slightly squishy beneath my Mary Janes. I pressed my right foot down hard and tested its texture. It was almost as though it was made of some kind of soft rubber.

"Where are we??" I asked, bewildered, reaching out for a wall to get a sense of the size of the room. My fingers groped and finally I touched something cool and rubbery. I slid my hands along it some ways and deduced that it was the wall, made of the same material as the floor.

"What's with the squi--" I was interrupted rudely, slamming my right root into what felt like a chair leg and making it move forward. I let out a loud gasp and froze. "I hope that wasn't important."

From somewhere inside the room, I heard Ms. Lana chuckle. "Look, Amber."

"Look at wh--"

Before I could even finish my question, there was a soft _click _and a moment something large on the opposite side of the room became illuminated. Hurting my eyes with its brightness, I raised an arm before them and shielded myself against the light. I hissed as my eyeballs throbbed inside their tender sockets, then I slowly began to lower my arm to see what it was. And that's when I saw him.


	6. Chapter 5: Scenes From a Memory

_**SUMMARY**: Amber has survived the cloning process, leaving a young Mewtwo alone with nothing but her memory to sustain him. Meanwhile Amber is now sixteen, confined to a solitary life with big dreams on New Island. However, her life is about to change once her old friend awakens...but is the shadow of Team Rocket's leader, Giovanni, looming over their companionship? What does he have in store for them?_

_**DISCLAIMER**: I DO NOT own the Pokemon franchise in any way, shape, or form!_

**"Whispers in the Dark"**

_Chapter V. - Scenes From a Memory_

There he was.

Like a scene from a memory, there he was.

Not ten feet from where I stood, a cylindrical illuminated Plexiglas tank sat near the far wall, filled with a light brown fluid. Suspended in the fluid was a large, pale creature huddled into a hauntingly innocent fetal position, its horned head bowed down and thin but muscular arms crossed across its chest. It had a thin waist that curved into a set of thick, powerful haunches, and a large gray tail that curled behind its back. A thick tube ran along behind its neck from the back of its shoulders to the back of its head.

Speechless, I approached his tank with the slow, careful steps that one might approach a light sleeper. The bubbling of the ever-cycling liquid in the tank got louder as I neared him, as did the hum of the machinery that was sustaining him in his sedated, coma-like state. As I got nearer I saw wires, man-made umbilical cords inserted into his body, and various electrodes attached to his white skin. I eyed him with the same intense curiosity that a young child might eye a creature at the zoo...this was Mewtwo.

"Oh my God," I uttered breathlessly, in pure awe as I began to circle the container.

"This is Mewtwo, Amber," Ms. Lana said boastingly. I glanced at her and even in the dim lighting I noticed that she was wearing a proud smile. "Your father's masterpiece."

"Mewtwo," I repeated in wonder as I returned to stand in front of the chamber. I gazed at the long horizontal slits that were his closed eyes, half expecting them to flare open in a pulse of life. "How long has he...??"

"Eighteen years," Ms. Lana replied. "As was with you, this is his artificial womb. He's been here since he was an embryo. He grew into an independent lifeforce and reached the point where, in nature, he would be ready to be born, but we feared him to be too weak and unstable to survive so we kept him under heavy sedation and helped him grow artificially in this tank. The electrodes are monitoring his brainwaves and other vital signs. According to them, over the past two years, he's been getting steadily more active inside, to the point where we think he would be capable of surviving outside the tank. We quit pumping sedatives almost a year ago, but he appears to be in some sort of trance...almost as though he's unwilling to be born."

"Why would that be?" I asked softly, mostly to myself.

Ms. Lana chuckled, her features soft in the dim glow. "That's anyone's guess. He could be afraid. Maybe it's just not his time yet. Or," Ms. Lana added with a sigh, "maybe he's a dud...which is a fear that your father's had to live with for eighteen years."

"No," I replied quickly, shaking my head gently as I continued to observe him. Wanting to get a closer look, I placed the palms of my hands against the glass. It was warm to the touch as I leaned in, almost pressing my nose against the tank. I could feel a steady vibration underneath my fingertips. "He's alive in there. You can feel it...he was alive enough to reach out to me."

"Exactly," Ms. Lana said excitedly, her smile returning. "And that speaks volumes about his psychic capabilities. He's a very special Pokemon, Amber. And exceedingly powerful. In fact, that's why he was created. To be...oh my goodness!!"

Ms. Lana's abrupt shift in subject prompted me to shoot her a thoroughly confused look. She was pointing at something to my left, her brown eyes wide with wonder behind her glasses. I followed her index finger with my eyes and at first, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just a round-top table and two wooden chairs, one rendered slightly askew as I had ran into it when I was groping through the darkness. Then I suddenly realized -- they were rising off of the floor!!

Suspended at least three inches and rising slowly, Ms. Lana and I simply gaped in silent awe at the spectacle, the only sound in the room being the symphony of mechanical humming and liquid bubbling.

"AMBER!"

Ms. Lana and I started violently at the sound of my father's voice, tinted heavily with both surprise and anger. With a gasp I swung around quickly to face the direction from which his voice came, tearing my hands from the warm glass of Mewtwo's chamber. Coming down the last few steps of the stairwell I recognized in the dim light my father, and behind him, none other than the large and menacing Giovanni. They both wore deep frowns that, in the glow of Mewtwo's tank, appeared almost diabolical.

Just as I opened my mouth to explain myself, there came a loud thump in the left corner of the room that made us all jump in unison. I turned my gaze directly back to the chairs and table and saw, to my disappointment, that they had all fallen to the floor.

---

As I peeled off my Otep tank and slipped out of my skirt, trading them for an oversized Metallica tee and deep blue shorts, I found myself actually looking forward to the dreams that were to come. Each dream had been more vivid than the last, and as Mewtwo's brainwaves became more erratic, I was sure that the detail would increase dramatically for tonight's adventure.

As I walked about my room, I snatched up piles of dirty clothes in my arms. They had finally reached the end of their long journey to the hamper. I dumped them in the closet and slammed the door shut (with a struggle) and then turned to see how this had improved my room.

"Eh," I muttered passively, not really caring anyway.

I quickly brushed my hair and removed my makeup, all the while thinking how exciting it would be when Mewtwo was finally "born". My father would be so proud of his accomplishment, and I'd wager that even that creepy boss of his would manage a grin...a thought which made me frown at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Giovanni was a rather upsetting figure, all right. But he really didn't strike me as a Pokemon breeder...if that's even what he was. But what else would someone want with so many top-rate Pokemon, created to be twice as powerful and intelligent? And most of all, why would someone resort to genetic engineering and cloning? In my heart, something just didn't sit quite right about that...but I shook it off to make way for happier thoughts.

Once I had reached the completion of my nightly routines, I finally found myself slipping underneath the covers of my bed at an early 11:30 PM. The sheets were very cool against the bare skin of my legs, and I snuggled in comfortably on my left side, drawing the covers up to my chin. My room was dark and cool, the only sound being the steady, almost subaudible squeaking of my ceiling fan as it wobbled precariously, in dire need of tightening.

I sighed as I switched sides, struggling to get comfortable so that I could finally slip away into the world of dreams and the realm of the subconscious mind. And after a few peaceful moments, I did just that.

---

I awoke with a sudden jerk, as if I were falling out of bed, and my eyes were met with the familiar deep darkness of my little windowless room. I was lying on my back, and found my body to be quite tense. I yawned and pulled myself up into a sitting position, scratching my scalp with my black nails and grimacing as I stretched my back.

_That's weird, _I thought groggily with deep disappointment, smacking my lips and looking forward lazily. _I didn't dream...?_

I glanced at my alarm clock and did a double-take. It's no wonder I hadn't dreamed. Barely fifteen minutes had passed since I had even laid down! I raised an eyebrow and was just preparing to lay back down when I realized that there were noises other than my squeaky ceiling fan present. It was almost as though someone was running down the hallway to my room. I frowned, trying to focus on the sound by eliminating all the other noises. I listened for a moment more, and flowers of anxiety began to bloom as I realized that was exactly what I was hearing.

"Amber!! AMBER!!"

The cold, frigid claws of fear gripped my belly and squeezed as my eyes bolted towards the door. I immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Ms. Lana, and she sounded quite distressed. A second later I was kicking the covers back and stumbling blindly for the light switch, absolutely convinced that there was a fire or some other disaster afoot. The minute I flicked the switch, my room was bathed in a light that blinded my night-eyes. I then began to struggle to find my shoes.

As I was struggling to pull on my sneakers, a pallid, out-of-breath Ms. Lana jerked my door open without a knock. I looked up at her, frightened, and gasped. A thin stream of bright red blood was trickling down the side of her face.

"Amber, Amber get up!!" She cried breathlessly, her chest rising and falling quickly as she rushed into the room. She was in complete disarray and the sight of her bleeding terrified me. "You need to come with me right now!! There's no time for that!!" She added as she knocked my favorite pair of sneakers out of my hands and onto the floor. I watched them fall, dumbstruck, when she grabbed my wrist and began to jerk me barefoot into the hallway. I struggled to simply stay upright.

"What's happened??!" I screamed as we entered the hallway. Picture frames surrounded us on the faded white walls, pictures of me and dad in various stages of life. In my heart I was terrified that I would never see any of this again. "Lana, why are you bleeding?! Where are we going??" Fear was growing wild in my heart, like a garden of weeds, choking out my clarity as we fled towards the heavy metal door that would lead us into the labhouse.

Ms. Lana replied with a series of panicky huffs and puffs as we pushed through the heavy door, releasing us into the labhouse. Almost immediately afterwards, rude alarms began to blare overhead, followed by red emergency lights blinking on the ceiling and casting their bloody glow upon us, rendering everything frighteningly unfamiliar. My bare feet flapped upon the tiles as I simply followed Ms. Lana, and to my shock, she didn't seem to be taking me to any exit. She was instead leading us deeper into the building. Too frightened to dissent, I simply padded along behind her.

There were several people on the nightshift here rushing towards various exit sites, flooding out against us. Carrying their laptops and personal belongings, I scanned each of their faces for possible clues as to what was going on, but they appeared to be almost as confused as I was. Someone stepped on my left foot in the madness, but I barely even noticed. As we passed my father's office, black and empty, I frantically began to wonder where he was in all this mess.

"It's Mewtwo," Ms. Lana finally said in a shaky voice as we ran clumsily down the corridor. My body went numb, the wings of fear flapping in the dead of my heart. I should've known!! Suddenly, Ms. Lana slowed to a stop, having to lean against the white wall in her exhaustion. I stopped with her, looking up and down the halls anxiously, terrified that I was going to look just in time to see the horned monster appear from the shadows. However, the halls seemed to be empty now, with office doors left open haphazardly as testaments to the suddenness of the event. Ms. Lana gulped, and I could tell she was trying to keep herself under control. I knew this was bad. "We...got a report that strange things were going on in Mewtwo's room...His brainwaves were off the chart, it's unbelievable!!" She explained in an uneven voice, gasping for air. "We went to investigate and the table and chairs were levitating again...spinning...then they went crazy and smashed down...they're nothing but splinters now...Oh my God...that's when we heard a noise...We looked and Mewtwo's chamber was cracking...it just kept getting bigger and bigger until it gave way, glass went everywhere, fluid..."

"Oh God," I muttered underneath my breath, checking the halls again. All I saw was a white corridor bathed in a fiendishly red glow.

"He was just sitting there...silent," Ms. Lana continued, breathing quicker. "Eyes closed, not moving...we approached him and...he was cut and bleeding so I went to bandage his arm when he...jerked away...his eyes...then everything began to fly around the room, the broken chairs, the table, the glass...he said your name..." Ms. Lana shook her head, her eyes clenched shut. She then looked at me desperately, her hair hanging in her face and clinging to her forehead in a light sheen of sweat. "We don't know what else to do, Amber!!"

"Oh shit," I cursed, suddenly terrified and taking a few steps back. The creature I saw was formidable enough while unconscious -- I didn't care to see him awake and on a rampage. "Is that where you're taking me??!"

"Your father is still in there," Ms. Lana continued, catching her breath. "He sent me to escape with you...but I think you're the only one who can..."

I wasn't sticking around to hear the rest -- I had already heard all I needed to.

I took off full speed down the corridor, red lights flashing overhead and my long black hair streaming out behind me. The tile was cold beneath my feet, and the air itself cool against my bare arms and legs as I ran, my fists clenched tightly enough that my nails were biting into my palms. I didn't care. The pain in my hands would be nothing compared to the pain of losing my father, which was the only thing on my mind. It wasn't even a thought -- it was mere instinct.

I had no idea what I could do to stop the carnage. As I ran I remembered the muscular physique of the beast...I knew I would be no match. More fear bloomed in my brain, tempting to overpower the flame in my heart and send me running in the opposite direction -- but I simply couldn't let it. I loved my father. He was so much to me...I couldn't let this happen!!

As I ran, I passed by the custodian's closet. I stopped in my tracks, almost tumbling head over heels. I knew I needed a weapon...a mop, a bucket, anything I could use to swing and strike the monster. Swinging the door open, I grabbed the first thing I saw -- a yellow broom. I then dragged it out and ripped off down the hallway once more, holding it before me like a staff. I felt foolish, but I was prepared to battle.

As I turned the corridor, there it was -- the open door to Mewtwo's room. It was a black, gaping hole in the whiteness of the hallway, much like the mouth of a monster. And in a way, I thought, it was. I approached it slowly, my broom brandished like a two-handed sword prepared to swing, listening, half expecting the beast to crawl out of the shadows and lunge at me.

As I finally stood before the blackness, nothing of the sort happened. Instead, as I squinted down into the darkness, trying to see something, _anything, _my ears were met with a most haunting sound -- a sharp cry of pain. I gasped as my heart leapt into my dry throat. It had been my father!!

Anger suddenly welled up inside of me. Pure hatred so strong that I found tears forming in my eyes. NO ONE hurt my father, no one, especially not some monster that he'd spent his entire career doting over. I gnashed my teeth and then bared them like an angry dog as I gripped the broom tightly, regretting that I had ever looked forward to Mewtwo's birth. But how was I to know it would happen like this?

Gulping and trying to gather my shattered courage, I raised one bare foot and placed it tentatively on the first step that would lead me down into the belly of the beast. It was cold and unilluminated. It then occurred to me that the first emotion any human being must feel in its life is fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. It made sense. A baby spent nine months in its mother's warm, protective womb before being rudely pushed out into a cold, bright world of light. Fear made sense. I knew from experience. And why would Mewtwo's case be any different?

_He's afraid, _I thought as I quickly descended, rushing one foot in front of the other. I held the broom tightly in my hands, prepared to strike at any moment necessary. _He's terrified. Just like us!_

For a moment, my own fear began to melt into a strange mixture of sadness and compassion. However, I didn't have enough time to embellish these philosophies, for I found myself suddenly stepping down into nothingness. Feeling my heart fluttering frenziedly in my tight throat, I realized I had missed a step. Horrified, I let out a cry of terror as I began to fall forward.

Letting go of my only means of defense, I began to flail my arms, groping blindly for a banister, anything to hold on to to keep me from collapsing. However, all my fingers grasped was cool, empty air. I heard the broom clatter somewhere below as I began to tumble down the hard, steel stairs.

As I fell head over heels, my final thought was that I was going to land with a broken neck upon the rubber floor below...which would do no one any good whatsoever. I bashed everything against something -- my elbows, my knees, my toes, my head. I let out an expletive for each bump and bruise and tear I received, which equaled a number probably far greater than ever before. Down and down I slid rudely, screaming. And after a few more moments of confusion and pain, I finally tumbled into the room below. Skidding on my chin on the mild, damp rubber floor and grimacing in pain, I was absolutely positive that something was now broken.

Disoriented and aching badly, I moaned softly and immediately grabbed my head as I scrambled to sit up. My eyes clenched shut in agony, I was aware that my bare legs had been scraped badly on the sharp edges of the steel stairs. I found myself sniffling helplessly in pain as I sat bunched together, my head almost cradled between my knees, whimpering and groaning.

Suddenly, I began to hear strange, guttural noises over my own. My head shot up, and that's when I saw the terrible sight.

In the glow of his shattered tank, there he stood -- well over six feet tall, standing upright on a pair of thick, powerful white haunches. His deep gray tail whipped back and forth angrily, his right arm extended high up into the air. I followed his arm and saw, to my utter horror, my father was suspended in the air, surrounded by a powerful, translucent blue glow. He was kicking his legs and grabbing at his throat furiously, his face a bright red as he sputtered and choked for air. I looked and saw Mewtwo's three-fingered fist was slowly tightening shut, and I realized -- he was choking my father to death on the spot.

"No!! DADDY!!" I found myself screaming in shock with all my frenzied might, forcing words from nothing behind my quivering vocal cords. My voice came out as surprisingly hoarse and almost totally unfamiliar, but I didn't even notice that as tears began to spill down my cheeks.

Almost immediately afterwards, Mewtwo's fist stopped closing, and he turned his pale, angular head towards me, clearly noticing me for the first time. He looked exactly as I had remembered him from the day before -- large and formidable, lean but muscular. Only this time his eyes were open. Large pale violet eyes gazed back at me sharply, and struck me with the deepest, most profound sense of deja vu I've ever experienced. That's when I was sure I had looked into these eyes before. My mouth dropped opened in a strange mixture of fear and awe. Still suspended in the air, my father began to sputter more violently, and I knew that this must be stopped immediately.

"Mewtwo, please!!" I pleaded, beginning to sob as I watched my father choke and squirm helplessly under Mewtwo's strength. I turned my gaze back into those cold irises and chills ripped up my spine as I suddenly felt truly helpless. "Put my dad down!! I--I love him, please...please stop this...hurt me instead..." I continued, sniffling, wondering if he could even understand me. I could barely understand myself as I broke down into a sob, watching my father grow weak.

However, the sudden change in his eyes suggested that he had understood me perfectly well. I watched as he looked back at my father, and then back at me. I simply blinked, trying to clear my eyes as hot tear drops began their journey down my pallid cheeks, pouring like an endless stream.

To my surprise, Mewtwo looked back over at my father, and his closed fist began to open slowly. My eyes widening, I watched as he began to lower his long, slender arm as well. Gradually lowering back to the ground, my father began coughing and gasping for air, his eyes wide. Mewtwo set him gently on his feet when the translucent blue glow that had been surrounding him suddenly faded into nothing. My father then collapsed weakly onto the floor, rubbing his throat and taking deep breaths, his eyes clenched shut behind his glasses.

Hopeful and wanting to run to his side, I felt my blood turn to ice water in my veins when I noticed Mewtwo turn his head back towards me, his gaze cold and glassy. Remembering that I had offered to let him hurt me instead, I watched in horror as he began to approach me. Immediately I placed my hands on the floor, covered with the broken glass of Mewtwo's life chamber, and I began pulling myself backwards. The glass tore deep gashes into my tender palms as I dragged myself backwards, knowing very well that there was no escape. Almost as if to prove this, I then felt my back press against the cool rubbery wall behind me. I glanced frantically towards the staircase, but I knew that if this creature wanted to hurt me, then struggling was virtually useless and to bolt towards the staircase would only give him a better shot at me. I simply drew my knees up to my chin and hugged them to me with my bloody hands, bracing myself with a cringe for a painful blow.

It didn't come. Instead, Mewtwo simply crouched down about a foot in front of me, sitting on his large haunches in the same manner as a cat. His long gray tail flipped slowly back and forth behind him. I hugged myself tighter, ducking my head into my arms and crying.

"Amber?"

I blinked. The rich baritone was clear and softly spoken...and to my shock, the speaker was none other than the creature crouching before me.

I jerked my head up and found myself staring bewildered into a pair of thoughtful lavender eyes. Mewtwo was leaning in towards me, watching me, his face no longer drawn into a deep, merciless frown.

"Why are you crying, Amber?"

His mouth hadn't moved...I realized that he must be speaking telepathically. For a powerful psychic Pokemon like him, I supposed I shouldn't have been so surprised.

"I...I'm afraid!" I replied with a sniffle, unable to fathom that I'd be having this conversation.

"Of me?" He asked, his tail waving lazily back and forth.

"Yes..."

"Why?" He asked, cocking his head a few degrees to the side.

I gulped, my tongue nothing but a piece of dry sandpaper in my mouth. "You...you hurt my father."

Mewtwo blinked at me and then looked back over his shoulder towards my father, who had recovered enough to be watching us very carefully.

"I'm sorry," he replied softly, thoughtfully as he looked back at me. In his voice, I heard what sounded oddly like regret.

"Are you going to kill me?"

There was a pause.

"Why would I do that?" He sounded surprised.

"I...I don't know," I replied after a moment, loosening up. I found myself wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. My palms were slippery with blood and I just realized that they were stinging very badly.

"I don't know either," Mewtwo replied. His eyes never left mine, and somehow, this comforted me. Suddenly he didn't seem so dangerous to me anymore. I found myself regretting wanting to strike him with a broom. "Amber?"

"Yes?" I answered, my fear waning and giving way to human curiosity. It was strange conversing with a Pokemon...but in my heart, I knew that Mewtwo was no ordinary Pokemon. It was as obvious as his appearance and as clear as his voice.

"How many days has it been?"

This question shocked me. "It's...it's been years, Mewtwo."

There was another pause.

"I missed you."

This sentence tugged at my heart, and for a moment, I couldn't even imagine how lonely this poor creature had been for the last eleven years. Left in the remnants of a memory that hadn't belonged to either of us...alone in a phantom world for so long...how on earth had he survived? Had the hope of seeing me once again really been that important to him? Could anything be so important that one would endure a decade of endless loneliness, of impenetrable night??

Here's where I paused, realizing the subtle irony of my thoughts. Yes. I could imagine how lonely he felt. Since the day I emerged from my glassy womb, I'd been there...alone. Alone in this phantom, purgatorial world of my father's creating -- alone in the fight for my own identity. I simply wasn't Amber Fuji. She was gone. Dead. A spectre of the past, an apparition of my father's heart. I knew that I'd always be Ambertwo inside...a clone...a copy...lost in the endless loneliness of this island, and trapped in the impenetrable night of my father's misunderstanding.

"I missed you too."

Suddenly, I noticed movement over Mewtwo's shoulder, on the stairwell. I looked up and saw with horror one of my father's associates, taking aim at Mewtwo with the long, thin barrel of a gun. My stomach turned over and my knees went numb.

"NO!!" I cried, my face contorted in fear.

Mewtwo flew to his feet, his eyes burning a brilliant shade of blue. In response the man lowered his gun and stood by helplessly as Mewtwo was about to wreak his vengeance.

Not wanting to see anymore violence, I scrambled to my feet and grabbed Mewtwo by the arm just as he was about to raise it.

"Mewtwo, wait!!" I shouted, holding his arm tightly to me, aware that he towered well over my head. His skin was warm and soft, but underneath it I could feel muscle, tense and ready. The blue flare faded from his eyes as he looked down at me questioningly. "Please don't," I pleaded, looking the startled gunman in the eye. I watched as he looked uneasily down at my father, and then back at me.

"It's a tranquilizer gun," the man began to explain slowly, his voice shaky. "It will sedate him, calm him down long enough for us to...to contain him."

"He needs to be sedated, Amber," my father added with a cough, his voice very hoarse. I looked forward at him to see him climbing to his feet very slowly, his hands open as if to show he had no weapon or means of harming us. "He's a danger to all of us when he's upset."

Still hugging Mewtwo's arm, I suddenly began to feel very tired. I had no way of knowing that the gun really was loaded with tranquilizers...what if they intended to harm Mewtwo, to do away with him after discovering that he was too powerful to handle?

"You can't hurt him," I said softly, warm tears welling in my eyes as I hugged Mewtwo's arm even tighter with my bloody, stinging hands. "Please, daddy. Don't hurt him."

Taken aback, my father and the gunman exchanged quick, nervous glances.

"We don't mean to hurt him at all," my father answered slowly after a moment, the huskiness of his voice almost masking his tone of reassurance. He coughed again and rubbed at his throat with a grimace. "I promise you that, Amber. Now please. Let us sedate him."

I blinked, and a hot tear slid down my cheek. I looked at the floor, covered in shatters of glass and wooden splinters mixed with the acrid fluid from Mewtwo's life chamber. I knew that if Ms. Lana hadn't come and gotten me when she had, the damage could've been much worse...and that my father would very likely have been killed. So why was I suddenly feeling for the creature responsible? Why was I defending his life? Why was I clutching his arm so tightly?

Because, Pokemon or not, he and I had come from the same place. From the same beginning. We were not of God, or any deity -- we were experiments, we were children of science. He was my brother in being. But most of all...my friend. He was my friend.

"Mewtwo," I said softly, finally looking up at him. He tore his glare from my father and the gunman and looked back down at me, his expression softening. Somehow my hand had found his and with shock I realized that I was holding it tightly, our fingers entwined. I knew I was afraid for him. "My father wants you to go to sleep now."

"I'm not tired. Who are these people?"

"They're...they're the people that made you. And me. They're scientists. They helped us live...they care about us...which is why they want you to sleep now."

"But why?"

"It's okay," I replied, trying to sound as soothing as I could while fighting back a barrage of tears. "They don't want to hurt you."

There was a pause where Mewtwo appeared to think for a moment, when suddenly he asked the question that tore my heart in two:

"What if I don't wake up this time?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before it settled in, reaching my heart like a sword, digging its blade in permanently to the hilt and then twisting to form a bleeding hole. He was afraid...this mighty creature was afraid...and I was too, wasn't I?

"You will...you will. I promise...please. Don't be afraid."

"Okay."

Sniffling, I looked back at my father and could barely see him through the stinging blur of tears. I blinked to clear my eyes, forcing hot tears from my lashline down my cheeks, leaving cold tracks. I nodded, and he nodded back.

"All right," he said, gesturing to the gunman. He looked back at me, "Stand back, Amber."

I watched as the gunman raised his silver rifle and began carefully taking aim at Mewtwo. Still holding his hand tightly, I reluctantly stepped out to the side so that the man could have a clear shot. Within moments, my stomach turned over as I saw the gunman squeeze the trigger. With an audible pop, the dart cartridge was shot forth from the barrel in a blur, racing towards its inevitable target. I cringed, and when I felt Mewtwo's hand squeeze mine suddenly, I knew he'd been struck by the needle.

I heard him issue a soft gasp, and, looking back at my friend, I clearly saw the needle syringe piercing the side of his neck. His eyes were clenched shut in a grimace of pain as he continued to squeeze my hand. He then groaned as the heavy dose of barbiturates began to enter his bloodstream, and slowly began to lower himself back down onto his haunches. Fearing that he might fall, I followed him to my knees, steadying him with one hand. I could tell by the ever-growing distant look in his eyes that the medications were having their effect. He was passing out, fading before my very eyes.

"Mewtwo," I said gently, raising a hand to his face and stroking his cheek, watching as his eyes sluggishly met mine. I very gently pulled the tranquilizer from his neck and tossed it aside, where I heard it shatter. "I'll be there when you wake up...I promise."

Behind us, I heard footsteps approaching cautiously, and the sharp crunch as heavy shoes trampled broken glass. Voices, excited chattering. Mewtwo didn't look away from me once, nor I from him. I wanted him to know that he was safe.

"...Okay, Amber..."

His voice soft, slow, trusting. Finally his eyes closed, and as he slumped forward into me, I knew my eyes were the last thing he saw before he gave into the darkness once again.

Straining to hold him up and keep him off of the floor, I then found myself surrounded by my father's colleagues, who gently took him from me. And as five of them worked together to pick him up and take him away, I began shedding tears as if I were bleeding a terrible wound of its poison. What had just happened?? What on earth had just happened?

Before I could even begin to answer that question, someone rushed from behind me and knelt by my side, holding me in their arms and rocking me back and forth gently. My body wracked with a strange sadness, I didn't even bother to look. I just gave into them and buried my head into their warm shoulder.

"Oh God, Amber," said a voice that I recognized as Ms. Lana's, sounding shaken and fraught with panic. I knew that she was trying to comfort me, but I felt that no comfort would come. "Oh, Christ. Should I...?"

"Yes," decisively agreed another voice, a voice that I recognized from its hoarseness as belonging to my father. I looked up from Ms. Lana's shoulder to see what they were talking about, but all I saw from behind my shield of tears were blurry masses.

"I'm sorry about this, Amber," Ms. Lana said, this time directed towards me. Finding this comment odd and out of place, I looked up into her gray eyes just in time to feel a sharp, cold sensation force itself into my back.

I gasped in a mixture of pain and shock, tensing up and grasping Ms. Lana tightly. I knew I had just been given a sedative. Already beginning to feel woozy and light-headed, I knew I was about to black out completely.

"Ms. Lana..." I said, forcing the words out. They didn't come easily. Already the dark room was beginning to spin. I gripped her tightly, forcing her to look me in the eyes even though holding my head up was quickly becoming a chore. "Please...take care of...of...Muh..."

She replied, but I didn't hear her. All I saw were the five men holding the limp body of my friend, beginning to hoist him up the stairs under my father's observation. Suddenly feeling ill at the sight, Mewtwo's words echoed hauntingly in my ears: _What if I don't wake up this time?_

Tears leaking from my eyes like the venom of my soul, I then followed him into the unforgiving blackness.


End file.
